


Unspoken Truths

by LadyDahliaWrites



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24255133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDahliaWrites/pseuds/LadyDahliaWrites
Summary: After spending the past two years secretly in love with your field partner, how much longer can you keep your feelings from him?Pairing: Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x fem!reader
Relationships: Jack | Whiskey/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Another story about my favorite Statesman agent, the very handsome Agent Whiskey. There’s a character reference in Chapter 3 from Dan Brown’s book Inferno, I borrowed directly from it - not my original character. This story took me a while to complete, I found myself plagued by writers block partway through. Hopefully it came together in the end though! Completed May 2020.

**CHAPTER ONE**

The sun was just rising over the peaks of the Cascade Mountains, casting light through the pines, settling a mystical aura over the valley. Dew from the night clung to everything, causing the morning light to twinkle through the branches. The mist rolling through the evergreens mingled with your breath. If it weren’t for the arms dealer and weapons of mass destruction below your position, it would have been quite a peaceful morning. 

Beside you, your companion grunted as he shifted his weight behind the fallen tree the two of you were using as cover. You stretched out your legs, massaging out the cramps that had built up through the night, before looking over at him. 

“You alright over there, old man?” You playfully whispered.

“I think I slept on a rock or somethin’,” Agent Whiskey growled, stretching his back, with a grimace on his face. 

You opened your mouth to give him more sass, but he silenced you with a look. Smirking, you held up your hands in mock surrender. 

Agent Whiskey and you had been partners for 2 years now; both senior field agents with Statesman. The two of you had proven to be a good team and had quickly become Champ’s go-to duo for tricky assignments. The combination of Whiskey’s tactical abilities paired with your logistical skills meant that the two of you were well suited for anything that came your way. The fact that both of you were expert marksman didn’t hurt either. This particular mission had sent the two of you to the Great Northwest tracking an arms dealer. Not just your normal run-of-the-mill arms dealer though, oh no, this guy liked to meddle in biological weapons of mass destruction, usually with a sci-fi, Fringe-type twist. Hence, why Statesman constantly monitored his movements. The intel said that he was in the northwest to meet with a scientist who dabbled in underground human experimenting. _Lovely._

“You see anythin’, Moonshine?” Whiskey whispered, as he settled into a more comfortable seated position behind the fallen tree, leaning his back against a nearby stump.

Through your binoculars you scanned the group of outbuildings, vehicles, and tents. “Smoke coming from one of the buildings, so someone is up. But otherwise, no movement.”

He grunted in response. Whiskey hated the cold. In your two years as his field partner, you had learned that there were few things that actually fell into the ‘hate’ category for Whiskey: complicated coffee orders and the cold. The northwest was cold and damp; he had _not_ been a pleasant traveling companion. Whereas, you grew up in Washington state, so this was familiar and surprisingly comforting to you. 

Leaning forward so that you could speak to Whiskey, you whispered, “What do you think? We go in early or wait until the transaction’s been made?” There was a mischievous glint in your eye and playful tone in your voice. 

You tilted your head side to side, cracking your neck, alleviating the headache that had been brewing. You hummed softly in contentment. 

Whiskey chuckled at you. “This is just recon, honey. Don’t go all guns blazin’. Champ said that we’re to place trackers on the buyer and the arms dealer. We ain’t sure what's what and whose who yet. So we just place trackers. Then we can get the hell out of these god forsaken wet mountains.” 

“Ugh, I know, but that’s _so_ not fun. Party pooper.” You playfully pouted at him. Between the two of you, it was usually you who convinced Whiskey to go off-script on a mission or do something reckless. He’s a hell of a field agent, but he likes to do things by the book more than you do. 

He chuckled softly, “I know Shine, but those are the orders.” Whiskey couldn’t help but smile at your antics, always trying to cause some kind of mischief or mayhem. Not that he would _ever_ admit it, but he loved that about you. Assignments with you were never dull. 

You couldn’t help but return his smile with one of your own, before getting down the business at hand. More seriously, “Okay, I’ll trigger some kind of distraction to get them out of the buildings, then we can tag them and get out of here. The quicker we can get to the Portland safehouse, the quicker we can track where they go, right?” 

“That’s the plan darlin’.” Whiskey responded, already pulling the tracking devices out of his pack. 

You took advantage of his distraction to let your eyes wander over the features of your partner. He looked tired, bags were beginning to form under his beautiful dark brown eyes, and his face held a few more stress lines than usual. He must not have gotten much sleep last night - too cold probably. He had traded his usual black stetson for a wool beanie and his leather jacket for a black gore tex shell. Not his usual look, but still, he looked ridiculously handsome. Way better than someone in the middle of a northwest forest should. Little did Whiskey know, or anyone for that matter, you had a secret. A whopper of a secret that you would take to the grave, if necessary. For all of the things you’d done as a Statesman agent, all the things that you _should_ keep locked away, there was only one thing you carried privately, and you carried it deep. The only secret you kept from your partner was the only one that pertained to him. 

Before you dared to open that particular pandora’s box, you shook your head and cleared your throat. “So, who do you want? Arms dealer or scientist? I’m feeling nice this morning, what with it being such a beautiful morning and all, you can pick.” 

Whiskey rolled his eyes at you, “That’s mighty kind of you, honey.” He handed one of the trackers to you, “I’ll take the dealer, you take the scientist.” 

Nodding, you slid the tracker into your pocket and started pulling your pack together. Shoving your binoculars and sleeping bivvy alongside your extra ammo magazines and food rations. Once your pack was situated, you moved to kneel in the dirt to adjust your various holsters. Dressed similarly to Whiskey, you were in a wool beanie, with your hair in a single braid, dark green gore tex jacket, and rugged black tactical pants with too many pockets. In your left thigh holster hung your pistol, your right thigh holster housed your machete, and your dual shoulder holsters carried two extra pistols. Whiskey had his whip, you had your knives. Before pulling your mask over your face, you turned to Whiskey. 

“Okay. I think I’m set. You ready?” 

He was just completing his own check of his weapons and pack. Whiskey looked over at you, his eyes traced over your figure - checking your gear - before flitting over your face. Bringing a gloved hand up to your face, he brushed the backs of his fingers against your cheek, before moving to adjust one of the shoulder straps of your pack. 

You froze, eyes wide. 

It felt as if lightning had arced from his gloved hand straight through your skin to your heart. Your pulse jumped and heat rushed to your face. It wasn’t the first time Whiskey had touched you - far from it actually. The two of you were always bandaging each other up or field dressing the other’s wounds. But none of those touches had ever been so... _intimate_? 

He must have sensed your stillness, his eyes met yours. “You had dirt on your face.” Whiskey spoke low and rapidly, before returning to check his own shoulder holsters. 

Breathlessly, you choked out, “Yeah...umm...thanks.” You tried to calm your racing heart. _What the hell was that? Come on, now is not the time! Get your head in the game. Focus!_ Attempting to clear your head from the sudden eruption of hormones, you looked around at your makeshift campsite for anything left unpacked. Finding nothing, you looked back at Whiskey, who was adjusting his comlink. 

Deciding to contemplate his touch another time, you boxed it away and spoke, all business, “Okay, you get the dealer, I’ll tag the scientist and we meet up at the rendezvous spot.” 

“Sounds good, Shine. Stay on the coms and watch your six.” Whiskey nodded at you before he turned and started hiking through the forest. 

Out of habit and before he could get too far out of earshot, you whisper-shouted, “I’d rather watch your six.” You watched his back shudder with a laugh as he shook his head. You didn’t need to see his face to know that he had also rolled his eyes at you. The two of you often drove the other agents crazy with your playful banter and childish innuendos. One time Ginger had actually remotely shut off your coms because she couldn’t handle it! 

Turning, you started making your own way through the forest, down to the grouping of buildings. You glanced up, the sun had fully risen over the mountains now and was streaming through the morning fog, through the trees. You breathed it in. Pine and dirt. Home. After all these years, there was still something so tranquil about the sunlight through the forest. It warmed some deep part of your soul. 

Quickly, you hiked down to the area behind the buildings, you found a spot to lay low, hidden. Crouching behind a large boulder and fallen tree, you peered at the encampment. 

“Whiskey. I’m in position. What’s your twenty?” You whispered lowly, barely vocalizing, the throat mic around your neck clearly picking up your words. 

“Damn, you’re faster than a jack rabbit through these woods ain’t ya Shine?” Whiskey breathlessly responded, teasing. “I’m nearly in position. Hold on.” You smiled. A few moments later, he spoke again, “Okay. I’m in position. What kinda distraction you gonna do?”

“I was between ‘shrieking woman’ or ‘explosion.’ What do you think?” 

You heard him softly chuckle through the coms. “Probably explosion. Fewer chances of you gettin’ hit or kidnapped.” 

Sighing loudly, you joked, “Geez, a girl can’t have any fun on this one, huh Whiskey?” 

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ through the radio. “Now hop to it girl, my feet are gettin’ cold.” 

Laughing softly, “Yes sir.” Then more serious, “Okay, hold steady and get ready.” 

Sliding your hand into one of your many pants pockets, you pulled out a couple of hand grenades. Expertly you then loaded the tracking dot into the magazine of your pistol and racked it. You surveyed the group of buildings, deciding on the best spot for your grenades, away from Whiskey and away from you, but a place that would still draw everyone out of the buildings. Bingo. One of the piles of wood debris created when they made the clearing. 

You whistled, perfectly mimicking the song of the Northern Cardinal. The Kentucky state bird. One of the first things Whiskey had taught you after being partnered with him on a mission was the sound of the Northern Cardinal. He joked that you needed something Kentucky if you were going to fit in at Statesman. Ever since, it had become a call that the two of you used often in the field. You waited until you heard the call echoed by your partner. 

Then you unpinned and hurled the two hand grenades into the wood pile. A beat. And then a loud explosion, shaking the silence of the forest, shattering the quiet of the calm morning. 

As expected, people came pouring out of the buildings. You smiled to yourself, _like clockwork_ . Quickly, you scanned the hoard of people, searching for your target. Nothing yet. The people continued to stream into the open space between the buildings, some shouting, some hysterical, some dazed. A flash of blond hair. Bingo - got him. In one smooth motion, you lifted your pistol and aimed at the fleeing scientist. Squeezing the trigger, you watched as the silent tracker pierced the shoulder of the man. He didn’t react. It probably felt like a momentary bee sting or muscle spasm. Most people never even knew they had been hit with the tracking dot. Once it pierced the skin, the dot released a tracking gel into the bloodstream. Totally harmless and effective up to 72 hours. _God, Ginger was a genius!_

“Target tagged.” You informed Whiskey. 

“Good shot. I’m still waiting on a- hold on.” He paused, before, “Target tagged. I’ll meet you at the coordinates. You be careful now, Shine. They’re spooked.”

“10-4. You too partner. See you soon.”

*****

5 hours later…

In a quiet subdivision in southeast Portland, the safehouse was a nondescript townhouse tucked quietly between two victorian-style homes along a tree-lined street. The sun was now high in the sky, although partially obscured by the grey clouds which floated through. No rain though. 

Jack pulled the truck up to the sidewalk and parked in front of the house. 

The two of you efficiently packed your gear into the house and set the security protocols. Jack grumbled something about needing a shower and then took off towards the bedrooms. You heard him rummage around before the water from the bathroom could be heard. You smiled. 

After stripping out of your cold weather gear, you changed into a comfy pair of leggings, wooly socks, t-shirt, and a University of Oregon sweatshirt. At least the agents who prepared the house had provided clothing that would help you to fit in among the locals. You quickly made a sandwich for Jack and grabbed a protein shake for yourself. 

Settling onto the living room couch, you slipped on your Statesman glasses and called HQ ops center. The smiling face of Ginger soon filled the screen. 

“Agent Moonshine, good to see you in one piece.” She dipped her head towards you. “How’s it feel to be back home?” 

“Hiya Ginger. You know Kentucky is my home now, but it does feed my soul to be back here. That’s for sure.” You looked out the window wistfully for a moment, before continuing. “So, what do you got for us?” 

“A couple of interesting things. I’ve been doing some more digging on our arms dealer, Peter Rumlow. I don’t think he’s the mastermind on this one. I think he’s just the middle man. I’ve come across some documents which point to him being employed by someone else. Looks like someone higher up the food chain is actually pulling the strings. No name yet, but I’m still working on it.”

“That _is_ interesting. It would be a first for Rumlow to be acting as someone’s middle man. I mean, he’s been the brains behind, what, like the last 4 weapons of mass destruction threats against the US?”

Ginger nodded. “Whoever he’s working for must have some serious underground clout.” 

“Hmm, okay. Well, keep digging into it and keep us posted. What else you got?”

The ops agent looked down at her tablet, swiping until she found what she was looking for. “Right. Two more pieces of intel. Your scientist, Dr. Hubbard was into some weird stuff. I found some of his research that suggested he was working on weaponizing powders for mass deployment. And, as we suspected, he was conducting human trials.” You both shuddered, before Ginger continued. “It looks like he had created some kind of powder delivery system specifically for Rumlow. The last piece of intel I have is that Rumlow is headed to St. Louis to meet with a biochemical engineer who also has ties to the black market.” 

You stood up and clapped your hands. “Then that’s where we’re headed as well. I’ll tell Whiskey and we will head out in the morning. Will you make the flight arrangements?” 

“Already on it, Shine.” 

“Thanks Ginger. You’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it!” She laughed. “I’ll text you once everything is confirmed. Say howdy to Whiskey for me.”

“Will do.”

The call disconnected. You opened your pack and pulled out your collection of knives. Back on the mountainside, you had noticed that some of them were too dull for your liking. Time to sharpen them. Pulling out all the appropriate equipment, you set to it. 

Meanwhile…

Jack practically ran down the hallway to the bedrooms towards the promise of a hot shower. _God, he hated the cold._ After quickly stripping out of his gear, he stepped under the hot spray of the shower. For a few minutes he just stood, allowing the heat to sink deep into his muscles. He rolled his neck, slightly grimacing as he felt tight spots loosen under the molten liquid. 

He thought back on their hike through the forest to the hidden getaway truck. The way that the sun had filtered through the trees, shining on your hair and making your eyes twinkle. He thought back on his slip up. _How could he have been so stupid!_ The way his hand brushed across your cheek. He shook his head, he needed to get himself under control. _God, the look on your face. You had been horrified by his actions._ He needed to get a grip and stop lusting after his partner. 

Shifting under the hot water, Jack finally began to feel the warmth settle in his bones. His brain wandered back to a moment during your hike when the two of you had to climb up and over a fallen tree. He had been grateful that you were facing away from him as he had watched you scramble up and over the obstacle, because he could fully admire how your combat pants tightened over the curve of your backsi- _stop! Now is not the time. Stop!_ He chided himself as he tried to distract himself before other parts of his anatomy grew interested in musings about your figure. He reached for the shampoo, shaking his head. 

Before long, Jack was changed and walking back down the hall into the living room. 

***** 

Jack walked into the living room, having changed into dark grey sweats and an off-white long sleeve henley. His hair was still damp. _Damn, he looked good._

“All warm now?” You teased, looking up from where you were sharpening your knives. 

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded, before playfully adding, “Now, I just don’t see the appeal of these states. It’s cold and wet _all_ the damn time.” 

You laughed loudly, “And here I thought you were a ladies man, Jack. I thought you liked wet things!” You sent him an impish grin. 

It was Jack’s turn to laugh. “You got me there, honey! You got me. This state ain’t like a lady though. I prefer my ladies a touch warmer.” Once he caught his breath, he eyed your knives. “Do I need to be worried or somethin’?” He raised his eyebrow in a gesture indicating your knives. 

“Perhaps…” Still teasing. Then, “No, I noticed some were getting kinda dull. I just wanted to take the opportunity to keep them sharp. I made you a sandwich. It’s on the counter.” You gestured towards the kitchen with the knife you were in the middle of working on. “Oh, and you just missed Ginger; she says hi. And, she came across some interesting info.” You watched as Jack grabbed the sandwich, nodded to you, and moved into the living room as you relayed the info from Ginger. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent restocking your packs, cleaning your weapons, and doing laundry. Occasionally Ginger would pop in to update the two of you on your flight plans or the movements of the arms dealer Rumlow. You and Jack effortlessly flowed. Two years of being partnered gave you plenty of time to get to know one another, quirks and all. You knew how he preferred his pistols to be packed and he knew that even if it was impractical, you were going to unwrap and check every piece of unused gear in your pack. 

By dinner time, the two of you were fully packed for your trip to St. Louis. Ginger sent you a text saying that you were scheduled to fly out of PDX at 7am the next morning. Luckily, your falsified IDs and passports stated that you were Dept. of Defense, so no security searches. _Thank god._

“I’m thinkin’ sushi for dinner,” You spoke up, looking over the takeout menus on the table in front of you, as well as your tablet. From the corner of your eye, you stole a glance over at Jack, waiting for his reaction. 

He didn't disappoint. Looking like he had been electrocuted, he jolted and whipped his head towards you with an incredulous look on his face. “What in the hell? Now come on, darlin’, you can’t be serious!”

You tried to maintain a straight face, you really did, but his reaction was just too good. You burst out laughing, doubling over in your chair, practically smacking your face on the table. “That was priceless!” You snorted as you were trying to catch your breath. 

Eventually you were able to sit up, your hand holding your stomach where it threatened to split from laughing so hard. “Oh man, I got you good!”

From his place on the other side of the table, Jack joined your laughter. “Damn y/n, yeah, you got me! I was thinkin’ you’d lost your damn mind.” He leaned forward to start looking over the menus on the table. “Got any real suggestions darlin’?”

“How about Mexican? Here, look at this menu.” You slid the menu for Nuestra Cocina over to him. 

After dinner, you and Jack had sat up drinking and reminiscing for a while. It was comfortable, familiar. The two of you had been on some pretty insane assignments over the past two years and on occasion you and Jack reflected on the close-calls and near-misses of your partnership. 

As usual during these musings, Jack teased you about the time when the two of you had gone undercover at a dog show and you ended up getting bitten in the ass. You hadn’t been able to sit properly for two weeks afterwards...damn poodles! Not being one to just take it and not dish it right back, you were quick to razz him about Brazil. The _infamous_ Brazil assignment. The two of you were running surveillance for another field agent team, when Jack had gotten distracted and ended up tripping and twisting his ankle. No big deal, right? Well, it wouldn’t have been if he hadn’t tripped right into a sleeping jaguar’s den. You’ll never forget the look on his face when he came face to face with the sleeping cat. To this day, you still teased him about being afraid of a little pussycat. 

Little did you know, the reason Jack had tripped was because he had gotten distracted while looking at how you effortlessly cut through the rainforest underbrush and admiring the way your tactical shirt clung to your chest. 

Eventually, the evening wore on, the two of you relaxing and swapping stories. Sunlight had faded well into darkness by the time you both decided to call it a night. You bid each other goodnight and retreated to your respective bedrooms for a well-deserved night’s sleep.


	2. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

_St. Louis_

The sunlight glinted off the sheet metal roof of the Hyde Park warehouse, momentarily catching your eye. It was a warm and sunny day in St. Louis. You and Jack were dressed more _undercover_ than you had been on your northwest assignment. Jack was in dark blue jeans and a beige henley, with his signature black stetson perched back in its rightful place. Both of you were wearing orange reflective vests which would create an easy cover if you were questioned about being outside of this warehouse. It was good to see his hat back on. It warmed your belly. _Not now…_ Refocusing your attention, you squinted to better read the tablet in your hands.

Whispering, you spoke to your partner, “Okay Whiskey. It looks like the signal is coming from within this building.” You gestured towards the metal warehouse the two of you were standing in the shadow of. “This must be where Rumlow is meeting with that biochemical engineer.”

Your partner nodded, adjusting his dark aviators, before whispering back, “You wanna call this one, honey?” 

“Sure. I’ll go high, you go low. Eyes and ears only. No engagement with Rumlow or the engineer.” Sliding your tablet into your pack, you double checked your hidden holsters. “Oh and we need to retag Rumlow, so we can see where he goes next.”

Whiskey nodded. “I’m on it. I’ll tag him with a new tracking dot on the way out.” He adjusted his throat mic before reaching over to tighten a strap on your pack. “I’ll signal when I’m in position.”

You took off in different directions. Whiskey crept along the westside of the building to a busted window he had spotted earlier, while you gingerly started climbing the external ladder to the roof. Sliding onto the roof, you inched towards an open vent in the middle of the building. Keeping low, you crouched near the lip of the vent and brought your scope up to your eye. You started scanning the inside of the warehouse when you heard Whiskey’s voice through your earpiece. 

“Shine, I’m in position on the westside of the building. I’ve got eyes on Rumlow.”

“10-4. Yeah, I see him too, Whiskey. Do you think that other guy is our engineer?” You tried to focus your scope on the face of the mystery man that Rumlow was speaking with. 

Below you, the warehouse was stacked with crates. In a clearing in the middle stood Rumlow who was speaking with an unknown man near a table with objects (glass beakers?) sprawled across it. 

“We gotta get audio, are you close enough?” You asked Whiskey.

“I reckon might be. Hold on.” 

A couple moments later, Rumlow’s voice came over your earpiece. “...they’re willing to pay. You understand?”

The other man’s voice responded “Yes, yes. I understand. That is sufficient. The money is good. Do you know what they’re going to use it for?”

“No. And those types of questions are a good way to get dead. Do not ask that again.”

The engineer shuddered, “Of course. I apologize. It’s just that this is a highly potent strain. The dosage has to be perf-”

Rumlow cut him off, “They know what they're doing. I wouldn’t stress about that.”

“But this strain is powerful. The strongest I’ve ever created. It only takes a small amount for the subject to begin experiencing the effects.”

“How quickly does it start working?” Rumlow asked, using a knife to slide a beaker around on the table. 

“Oral route of administration is about 3 minutes but inhalation can be within 60 seconds. The subject experiences urgency, like an itch or a sneeze. Then the reaction becomes compulsory. As I said before, this is a unique blend of scopolamine, amobarbital, and a compound of my own creation. Very strong.” The biochemical engineer appeared to preen as he spoke about his creation. After a moment, he added “There is an unintended side effect, however.” A questioning look from Rumlow was the only response, before the engineer continued. “You see, if the person manages to withstand the effects of the drug...well, they die.” 

Rumlow grunted in response. “Interesting.” He appeared to contemplate something for a moment before continuing, “What form is it in right now? Powder or liquid?”

“Powder, sir. One hundred kilos, as requested.”

“Good. You have your money. I believe our transaction is complete then.” 

“Very well.” And with that, the engineer picked up two suitcases and began walking to the door of the warehouse. 

Still eyeing Rumlow through your scope, you heard your partner through your comm. “Shine, I’m thinkin’ that we don’t need the engineer. It doesn’t sound like he’s involved in whatever Rumlow is up to. Let’s tag Rumlow again and get back to the safehouse.”

“Agreed. Tag him, I’ll cover you, just in case. And then let’s get out of here.” 

From your vantage point, you watched as Rumlow’s left shoulder suddenly twitched. Confusion momentarily flitted across his face, before he flexed and rolled both shoulders. You watched him a moment more, to make sure that he hadn’t noticed the tracking dot, before turning and creeping back along the roof to the ladder, and back to the ground. 

*****

The two of you sat at the table of the Central West End safehouse. It was a large, comfortable brick town-home with a lush green lawn and bold white-trim. One of the perks of being a Statesman agent that you never grew tired of was getting to see different parts of the US and the world. Never in your life before you became an agent, would you have imagined yourself being here. You hoped you never lost that appreciation. 

Jack was pouring over intel on Rumlow that Ginger had sent over on his tablet, occasionally scratching at his mustache or flexing his sock-clad feet under the table. You sat next to him relistening to the audio from the warehouse. Take out boxes were littered across the table. 

Jack glanced at you from the corner of his eye. He allowed his eyes to trace over your messy bun, your Statesman glasses pushed up to your forehead, the deep burgundy sweater that was easily two sizes too big curled around you, down to the simple black leggings you wore. His chest tightened. He simultaneously cherished and dreaded these moments with you. The simple domesticity of it made his heart throb with longing, while the knowledge that it could never be reality shattered him. Jack hadn’t reopened his heart to anyone after his wife died. Well, he hadn’t _voluntarily_ opened his heart up. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he fell for his partner, and realistically it probably wasn’t a single moment at all. More like a series of small moments, like this one, that just snuck their way into his heart. 

He wanted to reach over to push the strand of stray hair behind your ear; he felt the muscles in his arm beginning to prime themselves for movement. _No._ Quickly averting his eyes, he looked back to his tablet. _Well, shit. That’s not helpful._ His tablet had gone to sleep, showing the lock screen picture. Your smiling face pressed cheek to cheek with his smiling face shown back up at him. You had begged him to take that picture; the two of you were at some concert festival in Nevada...undercover again, tracking someone. He remembered how he could barely control himself on that assignment. You had looked absolutely bewitching; dressed in a light pink, subtly floral, bohemian wrap dress which would frequently unwrap itself across the front of your legs, you had looked downright ethereal. Eventually, he had begrudgingly agreed to take the picture of the two of you with the sun setting behind you. Turned out to be the best idea ever. He loved that picture. 

“..does that make any sense to you?” You looked over at him expectantly. 

Jack shook his head slightly, attempting to clear his mind of the daydream he had been sucked into, “Sorry darlin’, I must have zoned out there for a minute. What’d you say?” 

You cocked your head to the side and furrowed your brows in confusion. “You alright there partner? You seem a little...I don’t know...out of it.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” He nodded. When you maintained your confused look, he added, “I promise y/n, I’m right as rain. Now what was it you were sayin’?”

Shrugging, you answered, “Okay. Oh yeah. I was just reviewing the audio from the warehouse. Do you remember those chemicals that the engineer mentioned?”

“Yeah, I think so. They sounded more like pharmaceuticals to me than any chemical though.” Jask pondered. 

“Right you are. So smart.” You smirked at Jack, while he responded with a wink. You continued, “I’ve been researching them. They are commonly misused and mislabeled as truth serums.” You slid your tablet over towards Jack on the table. “See, look at this article I found. It says that it’s never been proven, but that over the years people have tried using scopolamine and amobarbital to pharmaceutically elicit the truth out of people. Weird, huh?”

Jack reached for your tablet and started scrolling through the article. “Hmm...that _is_ interesting. Okay, but why would a dang arms dealer want truth serums? Lacks the requisite firepower of his usual exploits.” He looked back up and you, arching an eyebrow. 

You sighed, “Shit, good point. I don’t know.” You shrugged before tilting your head back to look up at the ceiling. “Okay, what do we know?”

Jack leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out, and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, we got an arms dealer buying weaponized powder delivery systems. He then goes and buys truth serums on behalf of some mystery person...or mystery organization. Did you notice that he kept saying _them_?” 

“Ooh. That’s right, he did. Okay, so the arms dealer is the middle man, which jives with what Ginger found. Rumlow is just gathering the materials for this mystery _organization_ \- not a person.” You both sat in silence for a moment, trying to figure out how this all fit together. “Wait? You said _weaponized powder delivery systems_?”

“Yes, ma’am. Where you goin’ with that?” Jack questioned. 

“The truth serum at the warehouse was in powder form.” You jerked your head to look at Jack. “Weaponized delivery of powdered truth serum!” 

“Well hot damn y/n. Good work!” Jack grinned at you. “Now we just need-”

“Moonshine, Whiskey. Good, you’re both here.” Ginger’s voice cut Jack off, as her face popped up on the television screen in the living room. You both looked over to her. “Rumlow is on the move again. We’ve been able to track flight reservations for tomorrow to Albuquerque, New Mexico. I don’t think he’s staying there though, I’ve already found a car rental reservation.”

“Who is he meeting with?” You ask.

“We don’t know yet. I’ve got you two scheduled to fly out of St. Louis tomorrow. Get to Albuquerque and follow him. Hopefully we can find out who he’s working for and what the endgame is.” 

“On that note, Ginger.” Jack spoke up. He went on to outline the information that you two had put together regarding the powdered truth serum. 

After the conversation with Ginger, she had sent the travel information to your phones. You and Jack had an early morning ahead of you; you needed to be at the airport by 6am. _Ugh._ Deciding to call it an early night, the two of you ordered and ate dinner (from a place called the West End Grill and Pub, pretty delicious actually) and sat up drinking and talking, before turning in for the evening. 

As you laid in bed, trying to fall asleep, your mind wandered to it’s favorite subject - your partner. You rarely allowed yourself to indulge in these types of fanciful daydreams during the daytime, but sometimes in the quiet of the night, you couldn’t help it. So much of your life was already shared with Jack as partners, it was surprisingly easy to imagine a life with him as something more. Coming home to him after a mission, curling up together on the couch, cooking together. It was equal parts confusing and comforting because you actually experience these things with Jack. How many times over the past two years have you two had to go undercover as a couple? Or had to lay low in some safehouse, pretending to live a normal life? Hundreds of shared meals, movies on the couch, comforting words in the dark of the night when it felt like WWIII raining down around you. 

You flashed back to a mission you two had been on about 8 months ago. The panhandle of Florida. _What a shit show that had been._ Intel had been bad, you and Jack ended up being pinned down by the assailants you had been tracking. Turned into a bloodbath. Never before had you been in a firefight like that - it had almost been your last firefight. Crouched together behind a car, you had turned to Jack. For once you were thankful for the godforsaken Florida humidity, because it helped to mask the tears that streaked your cheeks. Gunshots ricocheted around you, pinging against metal and concrete. Nearby, close...too close, an explosion shattered a structure. In the dark, you could barely make out his handsome features, but the parts you could see were marred by fear. _“It’s gonna be okay, honey. I got you. We’ll make it out of this.”_ He had whispered to you, pressing his cheek against yours, hot breath fanning your ear. He squeezed your hand. _“We’re in this together; I’m not gonna let anythin’ happen to you.”_ The ferocity of the look in his eyes had gripped your heart; they had been so full of...something warm, something close to adoration. You had returned with a squeeze of your own, and whispered back “Okay. Jack...I’m glad it’s you here with me...right now, if...if this is it.” He had placed a quick peck to your temple before pulling back to check his pistol. His lips burned your skin, seared themselves into your memory. The two of you had barely made it out alive, but not without significant injuries; both of you ended up in the Statesman medical wing for two weeks after that mission. Jack had two broken ribs and two gunshot wounds. You had sustained a broken arm, a concussion, and two gunshot wounds. It had almost been your last firefight. 

Rolling over, you stared up at the ceiling in the dark of the bedroom. Your feelings for Jack had long surpassed a simple physical attraction or naive infatuation. Sure he was handsome as hell, had a seriously incredible sense of humor, and was tactically skilled beyond belief. But you had come to know and admire the man beneath all that as well. The man who was fiercely loyal to those he loved, who was much more sensitive than he ever let on, the man who boarded rescue horses at his ranch back home - Jack Daniels was a good man with a good heart. 

You eventually drifted off to sleep with images of deep brown eyes and an infectious smile swirling through your dreams. 

*****

After following Rumlow to Albuquerque, you and Jack had tracked him to Santa Fe. Jack had driven a rented jeep the hour-long trip through the beautiful New Mexico landscape. From Ginger, you had learned that Rumlow had tickets to attend the opening of an art exhibit at the Canyon Road Contemporary Art gallery. _Okay, weird move for an arms dealer…_ The plan was for you and Jack to go undercover as attendees to the gallery opening to survey who Rumlow meets with. You figured that _had_ to be why he was going - it was a cover for a meet. 

Jack pulled the jeep up to the art gallery and walked around to open your door. You were dressed in a black 50’s vintage dress with a sweetheart neckline paired with simple black pumps and pearl jewelry. Further channeling the vintage vibe, you had styled your hair in 50’s era curls. 

After accepting Jack’s offered arm, you took a moment to fully take in his appearance. He was dressed in a dark grey western suit with a white shirt, unbuttoned at the top, wearing his black cowboy hat, and black cowboy boots. He looked good, almost dapper in a classic-western-cowboy sort of way. You squeezed his arm, feeling the strength of his muscles even through his suit jacket. _Don’t swoon. Don’t be that girl. Don’t do it._ He led you into the art gallery. As the two of you crossed the entrance, he leaned in and whispered in your ear. 

“You look beautiful, honey.” 

You grinned at him, “You clean up pretty nice yourself, Jack. You look really nice.” Giggling, you added, “I’ll have to watch out, one of these high society widows might decide to steal you away and take you home.” You teased him, but your stomach flopped at the thought of him actually going home with someone else. 

Tipping his hat slightly, Jack smiled and chuckled, “Well, thank you ma’am. That’s mighty kind of you. But you know the only gal I’m goin’ home with is you, Shine.” He gently steered you through the crowd. “Now, let’s see if we can find this mystery man that Rumlow is meetin’ up with.” 

An hour later, you and Jack had perused the entire art gallery, pretending to take in the artwork, while stealthily keeping an eye out for the arms dealer. The two of you played the ‘oh-so-in-love-couple-who-is-looking-for-new-artwork-for-their-home’ pretty well, you thought. But still you hadn’t spotted Rumlow. You were just about to step outside to contact Ginger, when suddenly you felt Jack’s grip on your lower back tighten. Glancing at him, he raised an eyebrow directing you to follow his gaze. You curled yourself into Jack, pretending to lean in and whisper some sweet nothing into your lover’s ear, while surreptitiously stealing a glance in the direction he was looking. 

“What do you see?” You whispered lowly. 

Ducking slightly to bring his mouth close to your ear, Jack whispered, “Rumlow, 11 o’clock. Looks like he just arrived.” He brought his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. To anyone else, it would have looked like a private moment between lovers. Reality was, Jack was activating the hidden comm behind your ear. You giggled demurely at the action. Jack brushed a hand over his own ear, nonchalantly, activating his own device. _Damn, you guys were good at this._

“Let’s head in that direction and see who he is chatting with. Ginger you with us?” You spoke softly against Jack’s cheek. 

“I’m here with you. Whiskey put your glasses on and let’s see if we can catch a glimpse of this buyer.” The silky voice of Ginger filled your ear. 

Gently you untangled yourself from Jack and the two of you meandered your way towards Rumlow. A few minutes later, you were admiring a painting near the arms dealer. He was wrapped up in an animated conversation with a tall brunette woman with facial features reminding you of a hawk. 

“What do you think darling? Do you like it?” You asked rather loudly, gesturing towards the painting you and Jack were in front of. 

“Well, I’m not too sure honey. I reckon I might like it. Where do you picture it hangin’?” Jack drawled in response. As he did, he turned to look in the direction of the mystery brunette woman, capturing a perfect picture of her face for Ginger. 

Ginger buzzed in both of your ears, “Well done Whiskey. I’ll get an ID on her.” 

Continuing your charade, you responded to Jack, “In the foyer, of course darling!” You chuckled. 

Suddenly, Jack pulled you close to his chest and bent to whisper in your ear, “Honey, that is the ugliest painting I’ve ever seen. How is that even art?” Straightening again with a smirk on his face, he spoke loudly again, “Anythin’ for you sugar, Anythin’ you want.” 

The giggle that escaped your lips was genuine. Listening to Jack evaluate modern art was hysterical, almost as funny as listening to him describe the yoga class that Tequila dragged him to once. The two of you spent the next few minutes pretending to go back and forth about where in your home you would hang the painting.

“Moonshine, Whiskey. I got an ID. Norma Vilera. No criminal record. Looks like an upstanding business woman. Maybe that’s not our mystery man?” 

Jack made a humming noise beside you. You knew that noise. That was his ‘I’m not convinced’ hum. You turned your head to make eye contact with him, arching an eyebrow, silently asking what he’s thinking. Furrowing his brows, he subtly shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but something felt off to him. Two years of being partners had taught both of you the subtlety of the other’s nonverbal communication. 

Pulling your phone out of your purse, you moved towards him to take a selfie with him. Jack was not about to argue. He would love to have a picture of how beautiful you looked tonight. You leaned towards him, pressing your cheek against his, and whispered, “We can tag her with a tracking dot. And then continue to see who else Rumlow talks to tonight?” You snapped a couple of pictures. 

“Good plan, Shine. I’ll bump into her and plant it.” Jack whispered back, before straightening and turning his head, more loudly, he continued, “Now how ‘bout I go get us a couple of drinks, honey?” 

You nodded as he turned and started walking towards the target. Feigning distraction, Jack shouldered roughly into the brunette woman. Ever the gentleman, Jack turned and placed one hand on her shoulder (placing the tracking dot) so she wouldn’t lose her balance, while apologizing for being so distracted. You smirked. _He was so damn smooth._

For the rest of the evening, the two of you drifted through the art gallery, keeping an eye on Rumlow. He didn’t interact with anyone else besides Norma Vilera. She _had_ to be his buyer. You and Jack agreed to head back to your hotel room (there aren’t any Statesman safehouses in Santa Fe) and track both Rumlow and Vilera. 

Once back in the hotel room, you slipped off your heels and collapsed onto the couch. 

“Oh! My feet are killing me and I’m hungry.” You flopped dramatically. 

Folding his suit jacket on the back of a chair, Jack chuckled at you. “I’ll order some dinner. You looked real nice tonight though, y/n. Real nice.”

Rolling your head to the side, you playfully squinted your eyes at your partner. “You old flirt. But thank you.” 

You tried to overlook the way your pulse jumped at Jack’s words. Sure at the gallery he had been saying nice things, but you were undercover. He was playing his role. But now? It’s just the two of you, no role to play. Something akin to desire flickered through your stomach. You watched as he removed his shoulder holsters and placed his handguns on the table, loving the way you could see his shoulder and back muscles ripple under his white button-down. _Stop ogling your partner y/n!_ Sighing loudly, you turned your head away from him. 

Jack watched as you shifted on the couch, the beautiful vintage dress you wore rode up slightly on your thighs. Before the gallery opening, he thought his heart had stopped when you stepped out of your room in that dress. You were an absolute vision. And now, that very same dress that’s been taunting him all evening was once again teasing him by showing off one of the many parts of your body that Jack adored - your toned thighs. _Shit, it’s like Nevada all over again,_ he thought to himself. 

For a moment, a fraction of a moment, a split second of a fraction of a moment, he thought about just saying something to you; telling you how he felt. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to ruin the partnership, the friendship that the two of you had. Instead, he allowed himself to trace the shape of your legs with his eyes, tracing his way across your hips, and up across your breasts, to rest on your face. He exhaled slowly. He had it bad.


	3. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

The command center was packed. There must have been a dozen field agents and another half dozen ops agents sandwiched around the conference table. Champ had flown out to Miami himself to oversee the operation. He had called in additional pairs of field agents to join you and Whiskey. Humidity was making sweat drip down the nape of your neck, making you long for the northwest forests of your recent adventure. Hell, you would even take the desert of New Mexico over this humidity. 

Since Santa Fe, Ginger had been able to connect more of the puzzle pieces. Norma Vilera turned out to be far more than just a business woman. Her legitimate businesses and public persona were fronts for something much, much darker. It looked like she was the head of a shadowy organization called the Assembly of the Unknown.  _ Sounded very James Bond to you...but whatever… _ The mission of this Assembly wasn’t known yet, but Norma herself turned out to be a  _ very  _ interesting individual.

She had a degree in psychology and a master’s degree in sociology. After college, she secretly studied with Bertrand Zobrist, a dangerous and unstable geneticist who attempted to take extreme measures to reduce the earth’s growing population. Ultimately Zobrist’s plan had been foiled, but Vilera seemed to have shared his fanatical view on taking extreme measures when it came to the population. This knowledge had been what pushed Champ to activate more field agents. Since Zobrist’s plan had been so catastrophic and Vilera was stockpiling dangerous truth serums (and who knows what else), this was a recipe with potential global ramifications. 

You were brought back to the present by the booming drawl of Champ’s voice. He was outlining the tac-plan for the raid on Vilera’s compound. Of all the places in the world, she had opted to settle her villainous headquarters in the heart of Miami.  _ I guess everyone has a flair for the dramatics. _

The target compound was a sprawling 4,000 sq ft single story home, complete with a pool and a waterfall(?!). Champ handed out assignments. Team Alpha (Agents Rum and Tequila) would enter along the west border; Team Bravo (Agents Vodka and Merlot) would breach the northern border; Team Charlie (You and Whiskey) would enter along the east side; and Team Delta (Agents Pinot and Brandy) would enter via the southside of the property. The last team (Team Echo, Agents Gin and Port) were being airlifted onto the roof. The ops agents would remain at the command center, each connected directly to a pair of field agents.

Aerial pictures didn’t show any visible external defense measures, but none of you were naive enough to think the place wasn’t well protected. Everyone was expecting it to be highly guarded and heavily armed. This was not going to be a quiet or bloodless raid. The conference room simmered with electric tension as each agent silently acknowledged the risks of this operation. Statesman field agents were highly skilled, trained to think rapidly on their feet in the face of any threat and tactically trained to the highest standards. Still, knowingly walking straight into the headquarters of a shadow organization with beliefs connected to extreme measures of population control and knowing there was a stockpile of unknown weapons inside, was enough to cause even the most seasoned agent to pause. 

You glanced over at Jack, to find him already looking at you. Locking eyes with him. The two of you shared a moment of stillness, both silently telling the other one that it would be alright and that you would have the other’s back. No matter what happened, both of you were walking out of that compound.

Five hours later, the sun had fallen over Miami. 

You and Whiskey were dressed in all-black tactical gear; you had slipped on a black beanie while Whiskey opted for his traditional black stetson _. _ You were crouched behind a hedge, awaiting orders from the ops agents. Whiskey was double checking his shoulder holsters and his whip, which reminded you to check the placements of your knives. 

A few minutes later, Ginger’s voice came through your comms. “All teams call out.”

“Team Alpha ready.” The voice of Agent Tequila responded. 

“Team Bravo ready.” Agent Vodka.

“Team Charlie ready.” Whiskey spoke softly next to you, but you heard him clearly through your earpiece. 

“Team Delta ready.” Agent Brandy answered. 

And lastly, “Team Echo enroute to location and ready,” Agent Gin replied. 

Ginger’s voice came back, “Alright agents. You know your assignments and you know the mission. The goal is to capture Vilera alive. Retrieve any and all powders from the compound for secure disposal. Use your respirators if she deploys any airborne substances.” She paused. “Team Echo airdrops in 60 seconds. Okay, agents. Good luck. Roll out. ” 

You nodded at Whiskey before you both stood and began creeping through the ferns towards the house. Whiskey held two pistols in his hands while you held a knife in your left hand and one of your pistols in your right hand. The wall of plants opened to a large backyard dominated by an irregularly shaped pool. You scanned the open space for any guards, finding none. Giving Whiskey two taps on his shoulder, the two of you continued to inch forward. 

As you skirted the pool, you heard and felt the helicopter above you. Team Echo silently dropped on to the roof of the house. You felt Whiskey freeze suddenly beside you. Immediately you stopped and flicked your eyes to his. Using hand signals, Whiskey indicated that he saw movement in the house ahead of you. Nodding your understanding, you dropped to one knee to survey the house. The back of the house was almost completely made up of glass windows, the inside of the house was dark, giving anyone inside a clear view to the backyard; this was not going to be an easy approach. 

Just as you were about to relay your observation to the teams through your throat mic, you heard a gunshot and a crash from the west side of the house. 

“Shit.” Agent Rum’s voice shouted through the coms. “Breached the west side of the house. Heads up guys, there are  _ a lot _ of armed guards on the interior.” You heard him shout amid more gunshots, which echoed from the house and through your comm. 

All at once, everything slammed into fifth gear. You and Whiskey took off running towards the rear of the house; all teams breached the compound instantly. Sounds of gunfire, broken glass, and hand-to-hand combat rang through the air. Grunts, shouts, and gunshots echoed through the house. Above you, the helicopter returned, shining a spotlight. 

You followed your partner into the house, quickly taking down two armed guards as soon as you stepped over the broken glass of the shattered window. The sound of yelling filtered through the dining room off to your left. The smell of iron and gunpowder filled your nose. A familiar odor of battle. To your right, you could barely make out the shapes of Agents Tequila and Rum quickly neutralizing a small group of guards.  _ How many guards did this lady have?? _

“Shine! Cover left, I’ll cover right.” Whiskey shouted to you, gesturing down a hallway directly in front of you. You nodded and stepped up beside your partner. 

“Ready?” You questioned. 

“Go.” Whiskey responded. 

The two of you ran down the hallway, keeping your pistols aimed at every open doorway. The first two rooms were clear. Moving on to the next two, you briefly flicked your eyes to Jack. That was your mistake. 

The next thing you knew, you were being pulled back by your hips through the open door, a hand harshly covered your mouth. Something sharp was slicing into your cheek. Struggling, you reached out for Whiskey. Just missing him, you reached for the knife in your thigh holster. Gripping it tight, you swung back and sunk it deep into the thigh of your attacker, causing them to yell out. Hearing the shout, Whiskey swung towards you shouting your code name, he aimed his pistols above your head, and fired at your assailant. You heard the hit, a bullet piercing someone’s skull has a very distinct sound. Without even turning around, you knew Whiskey had dropped the guard with a shot between the eyes. 

He walked towards you, “You good, Shine?”

Doubled over, you wheezed, “Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m good Whiskey. Thanks.” You felt blood trickle down your cheek. “Thanks for th-”

An explosion rocked the house, instantly knocking you and Whiskey to the ground. 

Time seemed to freeze for Whiskey, slowly blinking, he tried to get his bearings. On his hands and knees, Whiskey tried to reorient himself in the dark. Smoke and debris swirled throughout the room. His ears buzzed with the ringing of the explosion. He sat up on his knees and reached for his whip. Calling out your code name, he tried to see you through the haze. 

Suddenly he spotted you. His stomach dropped. 

To his horror, he saw you laying unconscious a few feet from him with the barrel of a rifle pointed at your chest. His eyes traced up the barrel of the weapon, to the perfectly manicured fingernails of the shooter. A feminine cackle filtered through the sounds of the skirmish, as Whiskey’s eyes landed on the face of Norma Vilera. 

“Call off this attack!” She shouted at Whiskey.

“No.” He stood straight up, wincing as he felt a pain in his side. His eyes flashed to your still-unconscious form on the body. He could see a large gash along your ribs, oozing blood; something had torn through your body armor. 

“Call off this attack or I’ll shoot her.” Vilera repeated more calmly, gesturing towards you with the barrel of her rifle. 

Whiskey shook his head. “Why are you doing this?” Vaguely through his earpiece he heard Ginger say that your vital signs showed that you were alive, but losing blood.

Vilera cackled loudly. “Because it must be done. The planet is dying.  _ We  _ are killing it! Valentine saw it, but his plan was flawed. Zobrist saw it too.” The rifle dipped slightly as she continued speaking. “The problem was that these  _ men _ sought change through brute force; the real solution needed a... _ feminine  _ touch.”

“What in the hell does that mean?” Whiskey goaded her, trying to buy time for Ginger to guide another team of agents to his position. 

“I’ll give Valentine credit, he came close. He just went after the wrong emotion.” She scoffed and laughed humorlessly. “He went after aggression - how typically male…” She rolled her eyes. “You see women understand something that men often don’t. Why would I force chaos through brute aggression, when I can elicit emotional turmoil from within and let humanity do the dirty work for me?” Vilera laughed villainously. 

Whiskey silently begged you to wake up.  _ Please y/n, please wake up.  _ Turning his eyes back to Vilera, he questioned, “How would humanity do-  _ oh. _ I get it now. The truth serum, the delivery systems. I see it now.” Keeping his eyes on Vilera, from his peripheral vision, he spied Agents Rum and Brandy creeping up behind her. “You see, my partner there, she’s as smart as a whip. I bet she would have pieced it together long before I did. But, in the end, I guess I still got there.” He tilted his head slightly. 

“Oh? What do you think you understand?” Vilera sneered condescendingly at Whiskey. Agents Rum and Brandy continued to creep closer. 

“Well, I reckon it goes somethin’ like this. Deploy your truth powder around the world, activating people to spill their deepest and darkest secrets to each other. Now, I imagine that is gonna cause one helluva ruckus, which is - I assume - what you're aimin’ for. You want mankind to turn on each other,  _ do your dirty work. _ If people are killin’ each other, your hands are clean, metaphorically speakin’ at least. And you get your population control.” As he finished, Whiskey glanced down at your form, you were beginning to come to.  _ Thank god. _

Vilera’s eyes flashed with anger, as she spat, “Lucky guess, you brute. But you missed the best part. Even if someone is able to maintain their secrets, well the serum kills them. Beautiful, isn’t it? Now, I-” She was suddenly cut off by a groan from you as you rolled to your side and curled in on yourself. 

Painfully opening your eyes, you took in the scene. Vilera stood over you with a rifle aimed at your heart. Whiskey was standing a few feet away, holding his side; you could see blood beginning to seep through his tac gear. Smoke made the room hazy, or maybe that was a head wound? You reached for the knife in your boot. Raising your eyes to your partner’s, you were surprised to see him faintly shake his head. 

Vilera must have caught the exchange, her eyes flicking between you and your partner. As though a lightbulb went off, she suddenly started laughing again. “Oh, I think I know just how I’m going to kick off my little truth apocalypse.” In the blink of an eye, she pulled a vile out of her pocket, bent down and shattered it across your face. Bluish white powder clouded around your head. “Enjoy the chaos!” 

You tried to hold your breath, but Vilera stomped her heel onto your arm, breaking it. You cried out - involuntarily breathing in the powder.  _ NO! _

A single shot rang out, a grunt, a couple of shouted commands, then a thud. But it was all a blur. You had breathed in the powder. It was all your brain could focus on. You had breathed in the truth powder. Shit, you had breathed in the powder.  _ You had breathed in the powder. _

Whiskey watched in horror as Vilera broke the vile on your face. He immediately rushed to your side, as Vilera was hit with a tranquilizing round by Agent Rum. She fell with a loud thud beside you. 

He cradled your body into his own, soothingly running a hand along your face. Ignoring his own injuries in order to support you. Distantly, he heard the teams check in with Ginger and give her a sit-rep. All targets were neutralized or sedated. Team Echo was packaging the powder for removal. 

“Shine! You’re gonna be alright, darlin’. Just hang in there. I’ll get you outta here.” He cried against your cheek. 

“Whiskey! Stop. Listen to me. Inhalation is 60 seconds to onset. I don’t have much time. I gotta get out of here.” You pushed against him; anywhere near Jack was the last place you wanted to be if you were going to start compulsively spilling every secret you held. 

He didn’t relent, holding you even tighter against him. “Honey, stop fightin’ me. I’m gonna get you someplace safe.” He shouted to a couple of other agents and before you knew it, multiple sets of strong arms were picking you up and carrying you through the house, to the street, and into a vehicle.

You could feel your body starting to heat up, a buzzing sensation simmered just below the surface of your skin. Sweat beaded across your forehead and began dripping down your back. You knew the moment that powder had taken effect. All of a sudden your whole body ached for a release. Like needing to sneeze or pop a knuckle and being unable to, except every inch of your body felt that way. Worse than an itch needing to be scratched, this felt like you would go out of your mind if you didn’t get a release. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the part where you were still in control, you knew what your body needed. You knew what the release was...but you were determined to fight it. 

Closing your eyes, you tried to keep yourself under control. Dimly you were aware that you were in a moving vehicle. You must be laying on your side, your head was cradled against the rough fabric of someone’s tactical pants, in someone’s lap maybe? Whoever it was, they smelled incredible. Like pine trees and bourbon.  _ I bet that’s what Jack smells like. _ You bit down on your tongue to prevent the thought from leaving your lips. A hand came soothingly down to gently pet your hair; the hand was rough with callouses but tender in it’s movements. The taste of iron filled your mouth as you bit down harder on your tongue. 

Meanwhile…

Jack had experienced fear many times in his life, but nothing had been more terrifying than seeing you inhale that powder. His heart had stopped. Recklessly, he had rushed to your side, defying all of his training and all of his common sense. All he could think of was getting to you. He can’t lose you now. There’s still so much he hasn’t told you. He can’t lose you now. 

After loading you into the SUV, he had crawled in after you and cradled you in his arms. With growing horror, he watched as your brow became soaked with sweat and your tactical gear began sticking to your skin. He couldn’t remove your gear yet, he still remembered that gash on your side. You needed medical attention. So, he repositioned you on your side, laying your head in his lap, hoping that this would allow you to vent heat from your body. 

The SUV hit a bump in the road, causing you to groan. His heart was breaking at the sight of you in his lap. All those missions he promised to protect to. All those times when you had been injured or wounded. This was only the second time he actually feared for your life, the first had been the last time you were in Florida.  _ God damn this fucking state. _ Jack thought angrily. His fists clenching. 

You moaned again and shifted in his lap. Jack took a deep breath to calm himself. Looking down at you, he took the opportunity to really take you in. Your face was bleeding from the knife wound on your cheek and the shattered glass vile; your bullet proof vest was torn and shredded; and there were tiny rips in your combat pants from where you had been dragged through the broken glass. Even with all the blood and dirt, you were still beautiful to him. He couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not when he had so much to tell you. Absentmindedly he started stroking your hair. 

*****

Jack set you down on a cot in one of the rooms of the command center, which had become a makeshift medical wing in the fallout from the raid. You had been the only one hit with the powder, but several other agents had sustained injuries. You were semi-awake, but still delirious. Jack tried to make you as comfortable as possible. 

Ginger came in to assess your injuries. As she removed your decimated vest, she asked Whiskey, “So, has she shared any secrets yet?”

“No, she hasn’t said a word since the compound.” Jack tiredly responded, collapsing into a nearby chair. 

Suddenly on alert, Ginger whipped her head towards him. “What? Why didn’t you tell me? She’s in more danger than I thought.”

“Whoa there girl. Why?” Jack shot out of his chair. 

“If she doesn’t reveal a secret, the serum will kill her. She needs to start talking.” Ginger answered rapidly, leaning down to press her hand against your cheek. Towards you, she spoke “Come on, Shine. You gotta talk to us. Your life is in danger.”

Opening your eyes, it took a moment for them to focus on Ginger. You shook your head frantically. The ops agent was taken aback by the raw fear she saw in your eyes. Jack scrambled to the other side of the cot, taking your hand in his. Your eyes flew to him and grew impossibly wider. You shook your head again. 

“Shine, if you don’t. You will die.” Ginger spoke softly but firmly. You shook your head vigorously. Exasperated, Ginger looked at Whiskey. “I need to go get some supplies to bandage her wounds. You need to get her to talk.” 

Jack nodded and watched Ginger walk out of the room, before sitting on the edge of your cot. He winced, he still had bruised (broken?) ribs to get checked out and something was bleeding through his gear. “Sweetheart, look at me. It’s just you and me now. Come on, you can talk to me.” 

Wildly, your eyes swirled before landing on Jack. His smile abruptly turned to a frown as you tried to back away from him on the cot. “Y/n, come on honey. I can’t lose you. Whatever secret you have, you can tell me. I’m your partner, honey. Come on now. Please.” 

Your face contorted as you screwed your eyes shut. Blood seeped out of the corner of your mouth, alarming Jack.  _ Were you biting your tongue? _ You continued to shake your head. More sweat dripped along your face.

Jack was growing more concerned and more urgent with every passing second. “Y/n! Come on, honey. Whatever secret you got, it ain’t worth your life sweetheart. I promise. Just please tell me.” 

You fought against the serum; you could feel it coursing through your veins. You tried pushing back against it, defying it. But the harder you fought against it, the harder it tried to pull you under. An awful tug-o-war, with your life in the balance. You fought back, the serum seemed to burn even hotter in your veins. 

All at once, you felt the damn break. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. The serum was too powerful and you weren’t strong enough. It felt like a rubber band snapped in your mind. You locked your eyes on your partner, seeing the frantic despair in them. 

“Jack…” You croaked out. 

His eyes lit up with hope as he brought his face within inches of yours. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m right here. Please talk to me.” 

“Jack...I…” You paused, some last part of your brain was rallying, one last fight. Even through the valiant effort, it was too powerful; the serum won out. With a deep sigh that had blood dribbling down your chin, you brokenly whispered your secret. 

“Jack, I’m in love with you.”


	4. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Two days. The raid on the compound in Miami was two days ago. After securing the unconscious Vilera and the truth powder, the teams of field agents had stabilized everyone’s wounds and boarded the Statesman plane back to Kentucky. Ginger had placed you in a medically induced coma for the flight. 

Tequila had led the interrogation of Vilera, discovering that the powder hadn’t been sent to any delivery sites yet. So there weren’t any stockpiles anywhere that needed to be cleaned up. With Vilera in custody, the mission was considered a success and the operation was closed. 

Both you and Jack had been ordered to stay in the medical bay for the past two days. He was recovering from a broken rib, a deep laceration across his stomach, and a dozen smaller cuts from broken glass. You, on the other hand, were still recovering from the effects of the powder, along with the slice across your rib cage and a broken arm.

Your body still fought the effects of the serum, causing strain on your body when you held back a truth. You had never realized how many little lies you told during the course of a normal day. With the serum still coursing through your veins, you couldn’t lie about  _ anything _ . It was torture. 

One thing you were thankful for though, was that Jack’s bed in medical was on the opposite side from yours. So you hadn’t been forced to interact with him since your confession in Miami.  _ Fuck...my confession in Miami… _ You cringed every time you thought back on it. Jack had looked so stunned, and maybe disgusted? You weren’t sure...you had passed out shortly after spilling your deepest secret to your partner, which just happened to be about him!  _ Great… _

Trying to distract yourself from a headfirst spiral into depression, you pulled out your tablet to watch something on Hulu or Netflix... you didn’t care, you just wanted to be distracted from your thoughts. Your tablet came to life as you tilted it, showing your lock screen.  _ Oh yeah...that’s helpful right now, _ you thought sarcastically. The screen showed you and Jack drunkenly smiling, cheek to cheek. You had snapped the picture late one night in some safehouse in Poland after doing  _ way _ too many shots. Usually this picture brought a smile to your face, but now it only brought an empty feeling in your gut. Like someone had reached in and forcibly yanked out your heart. You quickly opened your tablet and found a suitable distraction on Hulu. 

_ Jack’s POV _

I hate being in this damn medical wing. The walls are too white, the beds are not comfortable, and it smells like bleach. What I wouldn’t give to be in my own bed again with my own bedding, in my own clothes, in my own house. For two days, I’ve been here. Two long days. Two boring days. Two confusing days...stuck… thinking about y/n and the words she had uttered before she passed out two days ago. 

_ Jack, I’m in love with you. _

Five words. Five small words that turned this ol’ country boy’s world upside down. She loves me? She’s  _ in love  _ with me? No. That can’t be. She was delirius, drugged for god’s sake! She doesn’t love me. No, it’s not true. 

But she had been drugged with a  _ truth  _ serum, right? She wasn’t capable of telling a lie, right? Right? Shit, I don’t know. I need a drink. 

I pull out my tablet, quickly unlocking it so that I don’t stare too long at the picture of us from the Nevada concert festival. I don’t really know what I’m looking for...distraction probably. I flip mindlessly through my apps. Ugh, pointless. I toss the tablet to the side and throw my head back. 

Y/n is in love with me? How is that even possible?  _ Is _ that even possible? I’ve been hopin’ and prayin’ to hear her say those words for two years now. But now? I don’t know if I believe them. But she was drugged with a  _ truth _ serum! I know. But still...what if she doesn’t actually feel that way towards me? What if she doesn’t actually love me the same way that I love her? 

I mean, shit...I can see myself settling down with her, retiring with her, hell I can see myself marryin’ her. I haven’t pictured any of those things with any woman in a very, very long time. She’s got me thinking about white picket fences. I can already picture her atop one of my horses with a cowboy hat and chaps on. I close my eyes. Damn, I’m in love with her. 

*****

Another two days later, Jack was released from the medical wing. Ginger had given him a couple of pills which had sped up his body’s healing process. Like alpha-gel, but in pill form. He was grateful to be back home again. Champ had placed him on administrative leave for one more week, meaning no field assignments. The upside was that he now had time to actually enjoy his house and his property. 

Unfortunately you weren’t quite ready to be released. The serum had done quite a number on your system and internal organs. Everytime you fought against the serum, it attacked your organs. Ginger was still working on ways to cleanse it from your system. She had even contacted her counterpart with the Kingsman for assistance. Together, they were working on developing a cure. 

You haven’t spoken with Jack in four days. After he was released, he didn’t come see you. He hasn’t texted or called you. It broke your heart.  _ Stupid truth serum, ruining a friendship and a solid partnership in a single moment. _ It was clear that Jack didn’t return your feelings. You weren’t really expecting him to. Sure, you had hoped he would.  _ Of course. _ But you never would have guessed he would turn so cold towards you. 

*****

One week later. 

Ginger had finally approved you to be released from medical. She and Merlin had developed an antidote which had repaired your internal organs and flushed the last of the serum from your system. Besides the bruises and general soreness you felt, you were feeling pretty good actually. Well, at least physically. Emotionally? That was another story. You were heartbroken beyond belief. Eleven days, you had not spoken with Jack in eleven days. This was the longest in your two-year partnership that you had ever gone without speaking. You were devastated. 

You had experienced heartbreak before, of course, you were a grown woman. But you had never felt anything like this before. No, this? This felt like an icy hand was gripping your heart, slowly stealing the warmth from it. Like your insides had been replaced with an endless black hole, slowly sucking you in. This was something you had never felt before. Your body actually ached from how heartbroken you were. Places that weren’t even covered in bruises ached and hurt to the touch. This was a torture you had never endured before. 

As you were packing your belongings into a duffel before heading to your apartment, Champ stopped by to see you. 

“Howdy, Shine,” He drawled, leaning against the frame of the door. 

“Oh, hey Champ.” You turned and smiled at your boss. “You here to check up on me?” You teased.

“I like to keep a close eye on all of my agents, now darlin’.” He pulled a cigar from his pocket and smelled it. “I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. You gave us all quite the scare there missy.” 

“Aw, thanks Champ.” You walked towards the older man and wrapped your arms around him in an embrace. Champ wasn’t an affectionate man, and there were only a handful of people that he tolerated to actually hug him. You were one of those few. 

He grunted, making you smile, before he awkwardly wrapped an arm around you, returning the hug. 

Stepping back from him, you inquired, “So, why are you really down here? Something on your mind?” 

He laughed. “You know me too well, Shine. That’s for damn sure. Alright, I came down here to see how you’d feel about a quick surveillance mission in a couple of days? Ol’ Brandy is on assignment over in Texas and is gonna need some recon support. You think you and Whiskey are up for somethin’ like that?”

Upon hearing him say Whiskey’s name, you froze. There was no way you could see him right now, let alone go back into the field with him. 

“Uh…” You started, not really sure how you were going to request a new partner without telling Champ everything.  _ Shit, am I really going to request a new partner? I think I have to. _ “Uh, Champ. You run this by Whiskey yet?”

“Oh no, he didn’t answer his phone.” Champ chortled. “Probably too busy with some pretty little thing to hear this phone ringin’. You know how he is. So I came to talk to you. If you don’t think you two are up for it, I can assign it to a different team. No hurry. You two are my best, I just thought I’d give you first stab at it.” 

Your stomach dropped; you were going to puke. The thought of Jack in some woman’s arms was enough to make you feel sick to your stomach.  _ Who were you kidding? There is no way that Jack returned your feelings. You have to do it. You have to just rip the bandaid off. _

“Say, umm Champ. I’d, uh, I’d like to put in a request for a new, uh, a new partner.” You were barely able to stutter the words out. All the emotions welled in your chest, threatening to burst out of you. 

“What's that now?” Champ looked stunned. “Why? I mean, sure. Course, honey. Mind if I ask why?”

“Just, our personalities don’t jive anymore. Must have run our course together.” You strained an answer, trying to force a professional smile to your face. 

“Well, alright. If you say so. I’m mighty sad to hear that, seein’ as how you two are my top field agents. But, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks Champ.” With that he nodded to you and walked out of the medical wing. 

Yeah, you were actually going to puke. You raced to the bathroom, making it just in time to vomit. 

*****

24 hours later.

The halls of the Statesman HQ were bustling today. Some new recruits were being evaluated by Ginger, which always caused quite the buzz around the building. You chuckled, remembering your first trip to HQ; so nervous and in awe. You had been beyond excited to be joining Statesman, all wide-eyed and green. That was a  _ very _ long time ago. 

You were nervous today, though. Champ had sent you a message, asking you to meet him in his office for a new assignment. A new assignment meant a new partner. And that had nerves tingling throughout your body. It felt like a first date, unsure how you would fit with the other person. Wondering if they were going to like you or respect you. First date or new partner, you hadn’t experienced either in a long time. Your heart clenched slightly at the thought of your previous partner. 

You still loved Jack, that hadn’t changed. Even in the face of his dismissal, you still cared deeply for him. It hurt. It hurt like nothing had ever hurt you before. The only cure was going to be time...time and space. 

Standing outside of Champ’s office, you gathered your wits and took a couple of deep breaths, steeling yourself for the coming interaction. This was the first step towards that time and space. Once you felt sufficiently grounded, you raised your hand and knocked on the door. Champ’s voice boomed, albeit muffled, from the otherside telling you to come in. 

Champ sat behind his large, mahogany desk while a dark haired agent sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. The mystery agent didn’t turn to greet you as you walked in.  _ Not a great first impression so far. _ You walked closer to Champ’s desk, eyeing the silent dark-haired field agent. Black stetson, strong jaw line, wire-rimmed glasses, distinctive sideburns... _ distinctive sideburns... _

... _ wait, what? _

As you reached the other chair, you came face to face with Jack. Well, at least you were looking at the side of his face. He had still not acknowledged your presence.  _ What the hell was going on? _ Refusing to sit, you turned to Champ with clear questioning written on your face. 

“What the hell is going on? I thought I was here about a new assignment.” You asked, making sure to keep your voice even. 

“You are.” Champ answered gruffly. “Now sit.” When you opened your mouth to argue, he cut you off before you could even say anything. “No. Sit.” He gestured with his hand for you to sit in the chair. 

Once you sat down, he continued. “Now, I don’t know what sorta drama you got goin’ on between ya’ll. But we’re gonna figure it out right here, right now.”

“Champ, please. Don’t.” You broke in, almost begging him not to make you do this. 

“Champ, I ain’t got no problem with Shine here.” Jack spoke up. The first words you had heard him say in two weeks. He still wouldn’t look at you, but at least he was speaking now. Although, his words hadn’t been directed at you. 

“Shine, what’s goin’ on then?” Champ fixed you with an inquisitive look. 

“Champ, I… I don’t really want to get into details. I just-” You started to say, before you were cut off by a scoff. 

“No? So everything is just fit as a fiddle then?” Jack spat at you. 

Turning to look at here, you were taken aback by the look in his eyes. His face was harsh, eyes glaring at you. But what really got you, what really shook you was the look behind his eyes. He looked...hurt, devastated...broken. 

“I, uh, no it’s not. Um, I just thought…” You were stuttering, unsure of what to even say. The look in Jack’s eyes was jarring and nothing you had ever seen from him before. 

“Well, it’s clear you two have some things to work out.” Champ nodded at both field agents. “The trip to Texas will give you ample time to sort out whatever shit you got goin’ on. I’ll send the info to your phones.”

“What? No, Champ. You can’t be serious? You can’t send us into the field together?” You yelled, louder than you had intended to. 

“Why? You don’t trust me?” Jack sneered at you. You looked at him, incredulously. 

“I’ve made up my mind.” Champ boomed. “You two head out in a few hours, go pack your things. You got some shit to sort out and your partnership is on the line.” 

Three hours later, you were boarding the Statesman plane, bound for San Antonio, Texas. It was a five hour flight and you were definitely not looking forward to spending it cooped up with Jack. Before, you would have loved this. The two of you would have sat up talking, playing games, or just comfortably enjoying each other’s presence. Now? Now, you were hoping for silence. 

Instead of silence, however, you were forced to endure four hours of Jack facetiming with his new girlfriend. Oh yeah, that had hurt. That felt like a knife straight to the gut. You tell him that you love him and he goes out and starts screwing some random woman. Jack hadn’t been in a serious relationship since his wife died. Hell, he hadn’t even really dated much in the past year. Kept saying that work didn’t allow much time for a social life. Now, suddenly he had found the time to find himself between someone’s legs. 

The constant giggling from the woman paired with the still-so-sexy drawl of Jack’s voice had almost driven you insane. It was all you could do to just turn up your headphones and try to block it all out. Luckily, this wasn’t an overnight mission. Just a flight in, a few hours of surveillance, then a flight back home. Sure it was going to be a long day, but it beat being trapped in a safehouse with Whiskey. 

For Jack’s part, he was heartbroken. After he got the call from Champ that you had requested a new partner, he had gone out and gotten rip-roaring drunk at a bar near his house. Honestly, he didn’t remember most of the night. He vaguely remembered doing shots with a couple of buddies. All he knew was that he had woken up in an unfamiliar house, with an unfamiliar woman sprawled across his chest. He had been so upset with himself. Jack loved you and you had confessed that you loved him too. The two of you were supposed to be having endless sex and cuddling on couches right now, not requesting a partner change. Did you regret telling him? Was that not really how you felt? His heart ached; he loved you with every fiber of his being. 

So, Jack did the juvenile thing. He knew it was the childish move, but he still did it. He was hurt and not thinking clearly. He called up the woman from that night on the plane to San Antonio. 

After landing, he drove the two of you downtown. Surprisingly and somewhat impressively, the two of you had yet to actually speak to one another. Agent Brandy was meeting an informant at a local nightclub called Merkaba. The informant was a quick-triggered character and Brandy had requested a surveillance team to back him up, just in case. You and Whiskey were going to set up on the roof of the nearby Hard Rock Cafe to monitor the meet. 

As you neared the building, you figured you might as well break the tension-filled ice. You turned towards Whiskey. 

“So, you wanna call it?”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “She speaks!”

“Shut up Whiskey.” You breathed out, exasperatedly. “Can we just do this, please?” 

“Sure, Shine. Whatever you’d like.” He responded dryly. 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, you spoke again, more softly. “Look, Whiskey. I don’t know what happened between us. But I’d just like to get through this operation smoothly, so we can get back to Louisville, and we can both be re-assigned. Okay?” 

He dipped his stetson towards you and gave you a professional smile. “Yes ma’am.” You hadn’t been on the receiving end of one of Whiskey’s professional smiles in a long time.  _ Damn, that hurt. _ If your heart wasn’t already broken, it would have broken again receiving that smile from him.

A little while later, you were crouched along the roof of the Hard Rock Cafe, setting up scopes and cameras facing the nightclub. The meet was scheduled to go down in half an hour. 

Whiskey was beside you, fidgeting with a scope. A teasing comment was on the tip of your lips, but you couldn’t bring yourself to revisit the once comfortable playful banter. It felt so wrong now, so tainted. An uncomfortable silence filled the rooftop around you. 

Ten minutes to the meet-up. You were both peering over the ledge, watching Brandy in the nightclub through your respective scopes. 

“Whiskey, did you get the audio feed up? I don’t hear anything.” You whispered to him. 

“Yes, I set it up. Would you like to double check my work?” He whispered harshly back. 

Rolling your eyes, you groaned. “God, you’re such an ass. Could you not be an ass for like, once in your life?”

“Oh! I’m the ass? That’s rich, darlin’.” Whiskey scoffed, raising his voice slightly. 

“What’s the hell that supposed to mean?” You shouted at him. 

“You know damn well what I mean.” Whiskey straightened to face you, letting his scope drop in the process. 

“I don’t actually. Please enlighten me.” You oozed sarcasm. “All I know is that I tell you I love you, then the next thing you’re out fucking some random bimbo. So please, Whiskey, please enlighten me about how  _ I’m _ the asshole.”

“Christ, woman! You are unbelievable!” Jack was shouting at this point. “You requested a new partner! How the hell was I supposed to interpret that little gem! Huh?” 

“Yeah, you’re right! I did request a new partner. You see, I  _ had  _ a partner. But I confessed that I was in love with him and then he fucking bailed on me. Wouldn’t even speak to me. Excuse me for wanting a partner who I could actually communicate with!” The two of you were now chest to chest, panting with the exertion of screaming at each other. The tension was electric, like the calm before a thunderstorm. 

Suddenly a shot rang out. 

For a moment, neither of you moved. Time came to a screeching halt. You swore birds froze mid-flight. Wide-eyes matching your own stared back at you. 

In slow motion, you watched as Jack buckled, doubling inward on himself, and slumped to the ground at your feet. You shouted out his name, horrified. Diving down, you felt like you floated underwater as you covered his body with yours and raised your weapon. You knew you needed to look around, find and eliminate the threat. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from Jack’s. His dark brown eyes held so much pain suddenly...pain and something else...something much sadder….heartbreak. 

You were trapped in those eyes, captivated by the man you loved. 

In your ear, you heard Agent Brandy. “Moonshine! The informant spotted a glint off someone’s scope and fired out the window. Status report?”

His voice roused you from your stupor, “Whiskey’s been hit.” You were breathless.

“Shit,” was Brandy’s only response.

You stuttered, “I’ve got to evac him... and assess the, the wound. Send me the address of your safehouse.”

“10-4. It’s all yours. I’m gonna pursue this informant.” 

Finally, you were able to pull your eyes from your partner’s. 

You looked Jack over, assessing the wound. Blood was seeping through the front of his plaid shirt. Pulling him into your lap, you ripped his shirt open to find an entry wound in his stomach, blood steadily pumping on to his skin and your hands.  _ Shit. _

Momentarily leaning away from him, you snatched your pack and pulled it to you. While one hand dug through it for your medical kit, your other hand was still pressed tight on Jack’s wound. 

“Y/n?” Jack croaked.

“Shh, Jack I’m right here. You’ve been shot. I’m looking for my alpha-gel pack right now. Hold on.” 

With his uninjured arm, he reached towards you. Softly, tenderly, he brushed his fingers across your cheek. “Y/n. God, you’re beautiful. I never stopped loving you.” He breathed out, voice low and pained with the exertion. 

“Shh, we can yell at each other later.” You whispered back, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Right now, let’s get you stable.” 

“Y/n, honey. Please. I need you to know that...I, I love you too. I always have.” He gave you a weak smile before passing out. 

_ Shit! Shit! Shit! _

Finally your fingers found the alpha-gel. You ripped open the package and poured it on Jack’s wound. It immediately activated, sealing the wound, and beginning the healing process. 

Sitting back, you looked down at the blood on your hands. Jack’s blood. You were scared. Deep down, you knew the truth - you loved Jack. Hell, you would probably always love him. And here he was bleeding on a rooftop because you two were arguing over who was the bigger asshole. Tears started streaming down your face in torrents. Right now, you felt like the bigger asshole. You just prayed your stubbornness hadn’t cost you the life of your partner, the man you loved. 


	5. Chapter Five

**CHAPTER FIVE**

After applying the alpha-gel to Jack’s stomach wound, you had quickly packed up the gear. You needed to get Jack to the safehouse. That was going to be tricky. The man was a shit-brickhouse.  _ Think. Think. Think. _

You knew he was safe and well-protected on the roof. So you gently dragged his unconscious form under the shade of an awning and grabbed the car keys from his pocket. Your plan was to pack all the gear down to the SUV, then come back and haul him down the vehicle. In theory at least, that was your plan. 

Stepping back, you looked down at Jack. Your heart lurched; the last thing you wanted to do was leave the man you love injured and alone on some rooftop, but you had no choice. You needed to act fast. Bending down, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before racing down to the SUV with all the gear. 

*****

Once you had stowed all the gear in the vehicle, you parked it as close as you could to the roof entrance. Back on the roof, Jack hadn’t moved. You sized up how you were going to transport him. From the wilderness first aid class you had taken, as part of the field training, you knew that you couldn’t straight up carry him out of here. He was too beefy for that. Looking around at the materials on the roof, an idea slowly began forming. 

Twenty minutes later, you had fashioned a sling-type contraption from a discarded piece of canvas. You slid the sling around Jack’s upper body, being careful not to jostle the alpha-gel, so that it rested beneath his armpits and cradled his head. Then you slid the other side of the sling under your armpits and over your shoulders. Hopefully this would help distribute some of his weight and keep his head from hitting anything as you dragged him out of here. 

You hooked your arms under Jack’s arms and slowly dragged him to the roof access, down the stairs (you would have to apologize later for the bruises on the backs of his legs and ankles), and to the SUV. After wrestling him into the back seat, you tore out of the parking lot and raced straight for the safehouse. 

Fortunately, the safehouse was only 25 minutes away; just a quick jont on the I-10, and you were pulling up to a beautiful home. It was a stately 3,700 sq ft home. Not very inconspicuous, but at the moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

After hauling all the gear into the house, you found a wheelchair that had been stashed in one of the bedrooms.  _ Honestly, it didn’t even surprise you anymore. The amount of weird stuff you found hidden in the safehouses, it was like a series of frat houses! _ You were able to get Jack into the house; grateful for the dusk, you hoped none of the neighbors saw you move an unconscious body into the house. 

You flopped him down on the bed in the master bedroom and collapsed beside him. The physical fatigue from hauling his unconscious body all over the place combined with the emotional rollercoaster you’d been on over the past 24 hours finally caught up with you. You were exhausted. All you managed to do was slip off your shoes before deep sleep pulled you under. 

*****

Warmth, that was the first thing you registered as you were waking up. You felt comfortable, warm, and cozy. As you shifted to stretch two things immediately captured your attention; one, holy crap your muscles were sore from hauling Jack around and two, you were not alone in this bed. 

Then you remembered, you had collapsed and passed out on the same bed you had deposited Jack on. Which meant that the weight you felt across your waist was probably Jack’s arm and the pressure you felt against your back was probably his chest. How long had you longed to wake up in this exact position? How long had you prayed for this to be your life? 

As you laid there reveling and soaking in a life you couldn’t have, an unpleasant thought crossed your mind.  _ Jack’s new girlfriend. _ Right. Her. Reluctantly, you wiggled out of his embrace and turned to look down at your sleeping partner. And that’s when you saw it. 

Shining, crimson blood bathed the sheets, Jack’s clothes, your clothes, your hands!

Cursing, you leapt up and started pulling the bedding off of Jack.  _ Shit! I missed a wound somehow! He’s been bleeding out all night because I missed something! _ Frantically, you began tearing off Jack’s clothes, searching for the injury. His ruined plaid shirt, you ripped it off and flung it to the side. You tore his white t-shirt clean in two, in your desperation to find where the blood was coming from. Your eyes caught sight of the alpha-gel over his stomach wound. It looked intact, that wasn’t where all this blood was coming from. 

You were just moving to undo the button on his pants, when you felt his body shake and heard the hearty tone of his laughter. 

“Honey, if I’d known that all it took for you to be gettin’ into my britches was gettin’ shot, hell, we could’ve been havin’ a lot more fun on our operations all these years.” He let out a deep laugh. 

Looking up at him, you yelled “Jack! You’re bleeding somewhere. I have to find where!” You started to claw at his pants again. 

Laughing again, Jack gently grabbed both of your wrists to stop you. “Darlin’, stop. Look at me. I only got one wound. I’m guessin’ that we didn’t get cleaned up before goin’ to bed and all this blood was on our clothes.” 

You slowly lifted your hands away from Jack’s pants.  _ Of course. _ You had been too exhausted last night and had just passed out, not even bothering to clean the blood off of you or Jack.  _ Gross. _

You moved so that you were no longer straddling him and shifted so that you sat beside him. 

There was a beat of silence. 

Suddenly you erupted into giggles. The ongoing tension, the ridiculousness of waking up in blood, the emotional upheaval, seeing and talking to Jack again- it all just became too much. Jack joined in, throwing his head back with the hilariousness of everything. Doubled over, you couldn’t catch your breath, your stomach was starting to hurt with laughter. Your cheeks hurt, your stomach hurt, but it felt so good to actually laugh again. 

A few minutes later, after both you and Jack had caught your breath, you were both sitting on the blood-soaked bed resting your backs against the headboard. 

“Sorry about not cleaning up last night.” You said softly. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it darlin’.” He smiled. “I’m more curious how you got me off that roof.”

You grinned back at him, “Maybe I’ll tell you over breakfast.” Pausing, your eyes traced over his features. “I’ve missed you, Jack.” 

He reached over and took your blood-stained hand in his and squeezed, “I’ve missed you, too y/n.” 

“I guess we’ve got some things to talk about, huh?”

“Yes ma’am. I reckon we do.” He paused, humming thoughtfully for a moment. “How ‘bout we get cleaned up, order some breakfast, and we sit down and sort this thing out?” 

“Deal.” You answered, smiling at him. 

*****

A little while later, after showering and changing, you were sitting on one of the couches in the living room. The alpha-gel had completely healed Jack’s stomach wound and had come off during his shower. You had tossed the bedding and your clothes (the ones that hadn’t been ruined) into the wash. Takeout boxes from Mimi’s Cafe rested between you on the couch cushions. 

“Where do you want to start?” You asked tentatively. 

Jack took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Well, from the beginning is usually a fine place to start. I’m bettin’ we both got things to apologize for.” He spoke kindly, no hint of the harshness or bitterness that had been present back in Champ’s office. 

Nodding, you agreed, “Yeah, probably.” 

You paused, taking a deep breath before diving into it. “Okay, I’ll start. Umm...well... I told you that I love you. Which was my deepest secret.” You gave a half-shrug. “I’ve been in love with you, Jack, for...shit, probaby forever now. I still love you. And I never said anything because I didn’t want to ruin our partnership or our friendship.” 

Jack took your hand and gently clasped it in his. 

You continued, “Then, I feel like you fell off the face of the earth. I was in the medical wing for two weeks and you didn’t say a word to me. You never came to see me.” Your voice began to raise and tears threatened to fall again. Stopping, you gave yourself a moment to reign in your emotions. “I was hurt, no, I was devastated. I figured you didn’t feel the same way and that you were freaked out. I took your silence as rejection.” You raised your eyes to meet his, before adding, “So yeah, I requested a new partner. I needed to get over you and move on. And a new partner was going to be the only way I could do that.” 

You gave a half smile and shrugged, “And now we’re here.” 

Jack made a pained sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “I feel like an ass. Hearin’ how it felt like to you, I feel downright awful.” He sighed. “I stayed away ‘cuz I was trying to convince myself that it was real, that you had actually said those words to me.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them to look into your eyes. “I couldn’t believe that the woman I’ve been head over heels for, could actually return my affections.” He choked up momentarily, “I was so busy figurin’ out my own shit, I didn’t stop to think what that looked like to you. Honey, I never meant to make you feel rejected.”

He shook his head, “Hell, I was plannin’ a wedding and picturing my life with you. That’s how far from rejecting you I felt.” 

You felt your anger rear up slightly at his words. “A wedding? Jack, who the hell is the girl then?” Your voice was slightly raised. 

He hung his head. 

You took that as an invitation to continue. “Seriously? You’re gonna have to explain that to me. You’re saying that you felt the same way and that you were thinking of marriage, and then you turn around and start sleeping with someone else. I’m confused!”

Jack’s head shot up and his eyes locked on yours. “You requested a new partner!” He shouted. “That’s a helluva slap ‘cross the face, honey!” 

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he went on, this time softer. “I had just ‘bout wrapped my brain around you wantin’ to be with me, when Champ calls me sayin’ you want a new partner. I’ll admit, I snapped. I lost it.” He stopped, breathing deeply. “Now I ain’t sayin’ it was the smartest thing to do, but it’s what I did. I went out, got black out drunk, and ended up at her house. I’ve only talked to her twice. Once the night we met and once on the plane. I just wanted to make you jealous. Make you see that I wasn’t hurtin’ like I was.” There was a long pause, before he added in a whisper, “I don’t feel anythin’ for her. She ain’t you.” 

Both of you were silent for a few moments. 

You scoffed, “You’re an idiot.” 

Jack whipped his head towards you, ready to defend himself, when he saw the smile on your face. He instantly softened and chuckled, “Yeah, I am.” 

You both sat there smiling at each other. 

“So, what happens now?” You tenderly asked. 

Jack shifted closer to you on the couch, roughly pushing aside the takeout boxes, until he could wrap an arm around you. “Well, darlin’ I’d like to give us a go.” 

You leaned in to him, gently bumping his nose with yours. “I’d like that too.” 


	6. Chapter Six

**CHAPTER SIX**

3 months later…

“Whiskey, you set?” Your whispered voice filtered through Jack’s earpiece, as you adjusted your grip on your rifle. 

“Tail up and stinger out, sugar.” He drawled softly in response. 

In the darkness, you raised your head and cocked an eyebrow. “Whiskey, I have no idea what the hell that means.”

Soft chuckling filled your earpiece. “I’m all set, darlin’.” Jack pulled his pistols from his shoulder holsters, grinning to himself.

“Jesus, you and your country-fried expressions,” you muttered playfully, half under your breath. “Okay. Whiskey, go slow. We don’t know how many more goons this guy could have in here.”

“Head on a swivel, check.” Jack whispered. “Well let’s get to it then, tonight is date night after all.” 

You giggled quietly. “Alright cowboy, let’s go.”

Raising your rifle, you crept into the darkened Louisville warehouse, aware that on the opposite side of the building Jack was mirroring your motions. You scanned the boxes, shelves, and crates that littered the warehouse floor, causing strange shapes to rise from the inky darkness. Vaguely through the blackness you could make out the outline of Jack’s signature stetson as he inched towards your position, making you smile to yourself. Discreetly, you continued to creep through the aisles. 

Suddenly the dark aisles opened up to a small clearing, illuminated by a single swinging bulb. A woman was bound to a chair under the dim light; she looked bloodied, but you could see her chest heaving. She’s alive. Her long blonde hair suddenly shook as she struggled against the ropes that bound her arms. 

“Whiskey, I’ve got eyes on the package.” You whisper through your mic.

“10-4, I’m headin’ in your direction. Let’s grab her and get the hell out of this place.” 

A few moments later, Whiskey emerged from the darkness, materializing beside you. Silently he tapped your shoulder twice. Staying on alert, the two of you cautiously approached the hostage. Whiskey kept his pistols raised covering you, as you gently dropped your rifle to your side. You were much more suited for this sort of situation than Whiskey. 

“Hey, hey Sarah. I’m Moonshine, we’re here to get you out of here.” You softly cooed towards the bound and gagged woman, raising your hands to show that you are not a threat. 

Her head snapped up, her green eyes boring into yours. Her eyes were wide with fear and she frantically tried to scream through the fabric that was wrapped around her mouth. Her blonde hair flew in every direction as she desperately shook her head. Muffled sounds filtered through her gag.

“We’re not gonna hurt you. We’re the good guys. Okay?” You kept your voice soft and even. “My name is Moonshine, this is my partner, Whiskey.” You gestured towards Whiskey, who dipped his head slightly in her direction. “And we’re here to get you out of here. We’re friends of your boss.” 

The blonde woman seemed to calm with your words. Moving until you were kneeling in front of her, you quickly sliced through the ropes that bound her feet and arms to the chair, before removing the gag from her mouth. She took a deep breath, rubbing her wrists, before speaking. 

“Thank you. We have to hurry, they’ll be back soon.”

“Hopefully not ma’am,” Whiskey drawled. “Two of our colleagues are takin’ care of them as we speak.” He continued to stay on alert, however, in case there were more assailants hidden throughout the warehouse. 

Slowly, you and Whiskey helped Sarah out of the chair. Her legs were weak and she struggled to stand, slumping to the ground. The two of you kept her propped up between you as you efficiently navigated the shelved aisles back through the darkness, towards the exit. Once back at your SUV, you contacted HQ, informing them that the package had been successfully rescued. 

Jack drove back to Statesman HQ where Ginger was waiting with a medical unit to evaluate and debrief Sarah. 

After touching base with Ginger, you and Jack trudged up to Champ’s office for your own operation debrief. This had been a quick, emergency operation. A local Louisville businessman’s receptionist had been kidnapped by a group of domestic terrorists. While another team took down the leaders, you and Whiskey had been sent to rescue the receptionist. It had been quick and successful. 

“Damn fine job you two. Damn fine job.” Champ drawled from behind his desk. You and Jack had just finished giving your post-operation report to him. Champ picked up a cigar to fidget between his fingers. Using the cigar to gesture between the two of you, he continued. “It’s good to have my two best agents back on the same page.”

“Yes sir,” Whiskey answered, glancing over at you. “It’s good to be on the same page, Champ.” 

“And I’m glad to see that this here  _ thing _ between ya’ll is not goin’ to interfere with any field work.” He nodded towards both of you. “Alrighty then. Get your paper reports filed and then get on out of here,” Champ spoke kindly. “I don’t have anythin’ comin’ up for you two. So take some time.”

“Gladly.” It was your turn to speak up. “We will gladly take some time. Thanks, Champ.” With that, you and Jack stood and left Champ’s office with a chorus of ‘thank you’s’. 

About a month ago, you had given up the lease on your apartment and had moved in with Jack. It may have looked rather quick to anyone on the outside, so early in your budding relationship, but neither of you cared. You loved each other and were good together, that’s all that mattered. Not to mention, the two of you had practically been living together during missions for the past couple of years. It just felt natural. 

“Well sugar, I’d say another job well done.” Jack breathed out, pulling the truck into the barn. 

“Yeah. We did good today, didn’t we?” You nodded, flashing a warm smile towards your partner/boyfriend. 

Jack returned your smile with one of his panty-dropping grins. “Yes ma’am. And now,” He paused to wink at you, “Now, we get to enjoy date night.” 

You simply laughed as you pulled your bag from the truck. “You old flirt! Yes, now we get to enjoy date night.” 

A while later, the two of you had showered, changed into sweats, and were curled up together on the couch eating Chinese takeout. After getting caught up on the latest episodes of Blindspot, Jack had turned off the tv and pulled you into his lap. With a few glasses of whiskey already consumed, the conversation had turned playful. 

You laughed, “No! That’s totally not what happened!” Barely able to speak through your laughter, you gasped, “It was Tequila’s idea...and, and then…” You burst into more laughter, doubling over, holding your stomach. 

Jack joined in your laughter, “Oh, I see how it is. Blame it on poor ol’ Tequila.” He chuckled. “Oh, no, darlin’! That’s not what I heard.”

“Really! It was!” You tried to jokingly defend yourself. “I was just following his suggestion.”

Jack heartily laughed, “Sure honey. Just like that time it  _ wasn’t  _ your idea to douse me in pheromones on an undercover assignment,” he paused to look you straight in the eyes, “at the zoo!” 

“Oh my gosh! I had totally forgotten about that!” You wheezed through more laughter. 

“Such a little troublemaker,” Jack teased you. 

The two of you dissolved into intelligible giggles, collapsing together on the couch. 

Eventually you were able to collect yourself and catch your breath. Your belly ached from laughing so hard. In all the joking and teasing, Jack had somehow swung your legs, so that you sat in his lap with your legs stretched to one side. Sighing deeply, you leaned in to Jack, resting your cheek against his strong chest. The smell of pine trees and bourbon filled your nose, Jack. You hummed contentedly. 

For a few minutes, the two of you sat in the dark of the living room, just breathing in each other’s presence. Finally, Jack lowered his lips to your temple and placed a soft kiss to the side of your head. Barely a brush of his lips against your skin, really. Immediately images of the same gesture from your fated mission in the Florida panhandle flooded your memory.  _ The gunfire, the explosions...the look in Jack’s eyes.  _ Suddenly your chest tightened. Understanding sparked through your heart.  _ That mystery look in Jack’s eyes that night had been...love. _ Your heart soared with the sudden understanding. Aloud, you released a light gasp of his name. 

Turning your head slightly, you peered at Jack. In his eyes shone the same fierce emotion that you had seen countless times in your partnership. But for the first time, you actually understood it. All those times you had caught a glimpse of him watching you from the corner of your eye, the times his eyes seemed to linger a touch too long when checking your gear...the brush of his hand across your face in the mountains. All of a sudden, they all made sense. Love. You weren’t even sure if Jack was aware of it, but they were all moments of love. 

Staring into Jack’s chocolate brown eyes, you noticed a hint of mocha you’d never seen before. You could lose yourself in those eyes. The depth, the honesty, the...well, the vulnerability you saw in his eyes tugged on your heart. 

A sort of electric tension began filling the air around you. As if you and Jack were suddenly perched on the edge of a great pool of water; one slight move and the two of you would plunge tumbling over that edge. Moments passed, neither of you moved. Electricity continued to crackle throughout your body, taut, poised, coiled. 

Your breath grew shallow, your vision narrowed on those deep brown eyes. Vaguely you felt Jack’s grip on your waist suddenly tighten.  _ He felt it too. _

“Y/n,” Jack whispered hoarsely. That’s all it took. The tension snapped like a glow stick. 

You lunged forward, pressing your lips against his. Frenzied, Jack responded, hungrily capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Eagerly, you opened your lips to his and were rewarded with Jack fervently deepening the kiss. His hands firmly gripped your waist, pulling you to straddle his lap. Dual moans echoed through the house. 

This was hardly your first kiss with Jack. Far from it, in fact; all you had done was kiss each other. Since making your relationship official, you had agreed to move slowly. After all, your body  _ was  _ still recovering from the effects of the serum. Kissing was the farthest you two had physically taken things. With the electricity and hunger behind this kiss, you had a feeling that was about to change. 

The demand for oxygen soon won over the need to be physically connected. Panting, Jack pulled back and leaned his forehead against yours. His eyes still closed. As your eyes flickered open, you glimpsed Jack licking his lips slowly, savoring the taste of your kiss. 

“Jack,” you whispered, voice gravelly with desire. 

His eyes slowly opened; pupils blown wide with want. 

Raising both hands to cup his face, your nails gently scratched the light stubble. “Jack. Please.” You whispered, your lips softly brushing against his with every word. “I love you. I need you.” 

Jack growled in response, swiftly sliding his hands under your ass and standing up from the couch. You shrieked in shock, locking your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his waist. Jack walked down the hallway towards your shared bedroom, kissing you the entire way. 

He tossed you on to the bed before quickly caging you in with his body over yours, with a soft grunt. You could feel his excitement through both sets of sweatpants, pressing into your stomach.

He looked down into your eyes, before softly whispering, “You sure ‘bout this, darlin’?” 

Biting your lip, you nodded. “More than anything.” 

Rather than erupting into a frenzy, the electric energy between you two deepened and stretched, becoming molten honey. Dripping and sliding over both of you; sinking into every pore and every bone in your body. Time seemed to slow.

Languidly, Jack sat up, still straddling your hips. His hands gripped the hem of your tank top and slowly pulled it up, tossing it to the side. He repeated the motion with your sports bra, allowing your full breasts to bounce deliciously, eliciting a rumble of appreciation from deep within Jack’s chest. Reaching out to him, you slid his t-shirt up, revealing his soft stomach with a dark trail of hair leading to the band of his sweats. Unconsciously, you liked your lips at the sight. Jack tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it to join the rest of the discarded clothes. He then slid down your body, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants and began sliding them down your toned legs. Jack slid them off, quickly kicking off his own. 

For a moment, Jack stood at the foot of the bed and stared at your almost-nude form. Skin flushed and dewy with desire, chest heaving, nipples taut and pebbled. You looked beautiful. 

“I love you,” Jack spoke, his voice hoarse and gravelly, before crawling up to come face to face with your covered core. 

He gently spread your legs, groaning as he took in the growing wet patch on your underwear. Jack placed soft kisses along your hip, across your lower stomach. You moaned his name, bringing a smile to his lips. He slid your ruined underwear down your legs before quickly returning to his position between your spread thighs. 

“Jack,” You moaned. “Please…” Your voice was already wrecked and he had barely touched you. The pleading quality in your voice went straight to his rapidly hardening cock, causing him to buck his hips into the mattress. 

He lowered his face to your core, breathing in your scent deeply. “Fuck. Darlin’, you smell absolutely divine.” He nudged his nose along your swollen clit, making you cry out and bury one hand in his dark locks. Licking an aggressive stripe through your folds, Jack groaned as your taste landed on his tongue. “Sugar, you are the sweetest thing. Damn you taste good.” 

Your hips bucked as he began his torturous ministrations to your dripping pussy. Adding fingers to his tongue, Jack teased and thrilled you, eating you out with vigor. 

The bedroom was quickly filled with the sounds of your moans, the squelching of Jack’s mouth and fingers on your cunt, and curses of his name. 

In no time, Jack had you pummeling over the edge of your release. Fingers tugging his hair, one hand firmly gripping your breast, you crashed into pleasure; blinding light exploded throughout your body. 

“Holy shit, Jack,” you breathed out. “That, that was...incredible.”

“Damn, you are beautiful when you cum, honey.” He spoke lowly, reverently. 

He kissed his way up your body, leaving a glistening trail of your release mixed with his saliva. Upon reaching your mouth, he kissed you deeply. You groaned as you tasted yourself on his full lips. He must have removed his boxer briefs at some point, because you felt his rock-hard length bump your sensitive clit as he crawled up your body. 

Muttered against your lips and into your mouth, he growled, “I love you, y/n.” 

You slid your hands along the muscles of his back, feeling the power with every flex. “I love you too, Jack.”

Propping himself up on one elbow, Jack gripped himself with his other hand and guided his length to your burning core. With a soft plea, you wrapped your legs around his backside and pulled him towards you. He filled you in one thrust. 

You cried out, throwing your head back, arching your back. Jack cursed, bringing both elbows to rest on either side of your head. The exquisite stretch of Jack’s cock was a perfect combination of pain and pleasure, causing your walls to flutter erratically around his length. For a moment neither of you moved. Jack seized the opportunity and licked the column of your throat. 

“Fuck, Jack.” Your voice throaty and debauched. Your body slumped beneath him. “Fuck, I always figured you were packin’ more than that damned whip, but shit, Jack.” There was a playful quality to your wrecked voice. 

Jack dropped his forehead to yours, letting out a genuine, unexpected laugh. His laughter seemed to take even him by surprise, “Darlin’, I love you.” His chuckle was quickly followed by a deep groan as he had accidentally thrust further into you, causing your pussy to spasm more around his hard length. 

Smiling, you kissed Jack before muttering a soft plea against his lips. 

More than happy to oblige, Jack withdrew slowly from your heat only to equally as slowly press back. It was more of a grind than a thrust. The motion allowed you to feel every velvety, hardened, veiny inch of Jack’s cock as it stretched your dripping cunt. You cried out his name in a breathy moan, as he repeated the slow grind, building delicious momentum. 

The slow friction across your clit from every thrust, combined with the way your nipples slid across Jack’s sweat-slicked chest added to the growing crescendo of pleasure flourishing throughout your body. You buried your hands in Jack’s hair, tugging his mouth to yours, eager to share the pleasure you were experiencing into a passionate kiss with your lover. 

The orgasm coiling in your belly frightened you, slow, strong, more powerful than anything you had ever experienced. Your body simultaneously wanted to run from it and dive headfirst into it. Your moans grew louder as filthy words of praise spilled from Jack’s lips, groaning about how good you felt. 

Pulling away from your lips, Jack dropped his mouth to your ear. A perfectly placed nibble along your ear, with a husky whisper of praise was your undoing. The first wave of your orgasm washed over you, pulling you under. A low, hedonistic growl left your lips as you felt yourself bare down on Jack's cock. His hips began stuttering as your walls clamped down on his length. You shouted as you felt his cock swell impossibly and twitch, triggering the second wave of your orgasm. This felt like you were being electrocuted in the most pleasurable way possible, every muscle, every tendon rippled with bliss. 

Above you, Jack shouted your name as he thrust deep into you. His release overwhelming his senses, stealing his breath. You felt, more than heard, him release a rumbling growl. The sudden splash of his release into your already fluttering cunt threw you into the final wave of your rolling orgasm. 

“Oh fuck! Jack!” You shouted, raking your nails along his back, your body bowed, the taut coil finally snapping completely. Blood raced through your veins, as endorphins exploded throughout your body. Looking up you saw Jack’s face contorted in beautiful bliss, deep brown eyes locked on yours, full of so much love and awe. 

After riding out the aftershocks, Jack slid out of you and rolled over, pulling you with him. Playfully yelping, you settled with your head on his chest, legs tangled with his. 

Quiet moments passed in comfortable silence. Both of you laying there listening to your matching heartbeats and soft breaths. 

“Wow,” You softly whispered against Jack’s bare skin, smiling.

“Yeah. Damn.” He breathed out, equally soft, with a grin on his face. 

You tilted your head to peer up at his handsome face. “I love you, Jack.” 

His grip on your lower back tightened, drawing you even closer to his body. “I love you too, darlin’.” 

**THE END**


End file.
